Reedy River - Gary Shearston

Ten miles down Reedy River one Sunday afternoon

I rode with Mary Campbell to that broad, bright lagoon

We left our horses grazing till shadows climbed the peak

And strolled beneath the sheoaks on the banks of Rocky Creek

Then home along the river, that night we rode a race

And the moonlight lent a glory to Mary Campbell’s face

I pleaded for our future all through that moonlight ride

Until our weary horses drew closer side by side

Ten miles from Ryan’s Crossing and five below the peak

I built a little homestead on the banks of Rocky Creek

I cleared the land and fenced it, and ploughed the rich, red loam

And my first crop was golden when I brought my Mary home

Now still down Reedy River, the grassy sheoaks sigh

The water-holes still mirror the pictures in the sky

The golden sand is drifting across the rocky bars

And over all for ever go sun and moon and stars

But of that hut I builded, there are no traces now

And many rains have levelled the furrows of my plough

The glad, bright days have vanished, for sombre branches wave

Their wattle blossom golden above my Mary’s grave